All That We Let In
by masked-spangler
Summary: Friendship, with her, with each other, in general, is still so new to them. So how are Bailey and Callie supposed to know if this is just a phase for Addison, or if she's really going off the deep end? Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

All That We Let In

_"You may not see it when it's sticking to your skin  
But we're better off for all that we let in"  
(Indigo Girls)_

It was a thing, the drinks. Callie went for coffee in the hospital cafeteria. Addison went for alcohol at Joe's. When Miranda joined in, it was with one of them, or the other, or both. It didn't matter. This having friends business was new to her. She had been so focused on her career, then on her child, then on her child and her career. Friends never really seemed to factor in. But the drinks, that had been Tucker's idea. It was their new arrangement, the hour's grace.

"Balance is good for you," he told her.

She didn't answer, but he could read it in her eyes: she felt like she was being a bad mother if she spent a single non-working minute with anyone but Little Tuck.

"They go for drinks?" he asked her one night. He had brought Tuck in to pick her up at the hospital, and saw the other two leave together.

She nodded. "Yeah. They go for drinks."

"Go with them. You'll come home happier."

"But you…but Tuck…"

"We aren't girls, baby. You need girls."

"But…"

"Hey. I'm not saying we don't want you home. Course we do. Just saying that if you ever want an hour's grace, you take it. Little Tuck and me can hold down the fort that much longer. Go out with your girls, get in your R&R time. It's good for you, so it's good for us. You know?"

She did know. And she loved him to bits, because he knew too. She kept it confined to the quick breaks at work, or the hour afterward, the grace period of Tuck's suggestion. It wasn't too much time to take away from her men, but it was just enough to unwind a little and yes, have some girl time. When had she started needing that? Maybe it really was possible to be a surgeon and have a life too?

But as she got entangled with the two of them, she started wondering if maybe too much of a personal life could be a bad thing. Not that she wasn't starting to love the unexpected gift of the relationship which was blossoming between them. But the drama! Although she heard more griping about O'Malley than she cared to, at least Callie had a sense of humour about the whole thing. Addison, however, was a different story.

"I mean, I'm an ortho girl through and through," Callie said one day, over coffee. "So this head shrink stuff is coming from a place of the completely amateur. But this thing with Addison…"

"What thing?"

"The drinks at Joe's? The McNights with McSteamy? The hotel room full of gaping lonely?"

"All of which you do, or did have in common," she pointed out.

"Fair enough. But I didn't wander through any of it with deadened eyes, looking like somebody kicked my puppy, either. Miranda, did it ever occur to you that this might not be just 'going through a difficult time?' Did it ever occur to you that this might be actual, diagnosable depression here?"

"So, what, you want me to talk to her? We do talk. And she tells me to leave it be, tells me that's she's fine, tells me to relax and come have some drinks with her."

"And that doesn't strike you as just the teeniest bit dysfunctional?"

"Well…"

"Look, you have interns. They get assigned to her. Can't you send one of them in to do a little recon or something, find out if this is just me being paranoid?"

"My interns don't spy."

"Look, Miranda, she needs us, okay? Derek walks by her in the hallway and doesn't even look her in the eye. When she collapsed after toxic girl, he didn't even look back to see if she was okay. We're the only friends she has in Seattle."

She sighed. "You have a preference for any particular intern?"

--

O'Malley was staring at her with that puppy dog in the headlights hangdog face. "What do you mean, how was she?"

"You just spent the last four hours in surgery with the woman, O'Malley. So, how did she seem?"

"She seemed fine."

"Did she talk much? Crack any jokes? Crack any smiles?"

"We were performing a delicate procedure on a high-risk pregnant woman, Dr. Bailey. It was pretty serious in there."

She fidgeted a little, sending that she wasn't handling this in the most elegant way. She gave herself a minute to think of something to say. But the best she could come up with was a curt "Right. Of course it was."

She reported the conversation to Callie at once, and all her friend could do was shake her head. "Honestly. I give you one task…"

"I was trying to be discreet."

"That was your first mistake. He's a boy, he doesn't get 'discreet.' And you are a hard-ass, so apparently, you don't get it either. I'll handle this."

She roved her eyes across the cafeteria, spotted George. Then she put her two index fingers between her lips and let loose with a loud whistle. Heads spun in her direction. She caught George's eye and snapped her fingers. He traded puzzled glances with Stevens, then left her at their table and came over.

"You rang?"

"Hey, George. Look, here's the thing. Bailey's putting you with Addison again. We want you to keep an eye on her."

He frowned. "I don't…"

"Yeah. Look, I don't want to get into a whole big whatever. She has stuff going on, and some of it, you know about. Some of it, you don't. Some of it, Bailey and me don't, either. We just want to know if we're in 'going through a thing' territory, or something more."

An internal struggle played out on his face and was resolved. He sighed. "Anything in particular you want me to watch for?"

"Just report back to us after your shift. Tell us how it went."

"I'm not sure I feel right about this."

"You don't have to be sure. George…it's important. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

--

She was cleaning up charts at the admit desk when George checked in with her again. "We lost our patient," he told her.

"High risk from this morning?"

"The very same."

She shoved the papers aside, all ears. "And?"

"And she seemed okay. I mean, sad, you know? Serious. But no big, like, meltdown or anything. Said she was going to her office to finish up her notes."

"But?" she prompted.

"Well…look, maybe this is nothing. Maybe it's just reaching a little because I know you're looking for something. But…it almost felt like she was a little too okay, you know?"

She did know. But she needed to hear him explain it to her. "How so, O'Malley?"

"Like…you could see how tense she was. Her hands were all clenchy, and I think she was grinding her teeth. And the nurses were all hey, are you okay, and she was totally pretending she was. Even I could see through the act. But she didn't need to be pretending, you know? If she was upset…I mean, tough surgery, young patient, it would have been normal to be. A lot of the nurses were wiping away tears. But Dr. Montgomery…"

Maybe she preferred to hold it in until she was alone with it. To not show that vulnerable side in front of patients, interns, nurses. That made sense, but it didn't feel right to her. Or maybe Addison really had been having her meltdown after all? Maybe she had been having it right there, in front of them, but she had been doing it inside, where nobody would see the pain and nobody would try to comfort her. Because if nobody tries to comfort you, you get to keep on feeling bad? And there isn't any reason not to keep wallowing?

Screw that. Callie was right after all. Their friend needed help.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She told Callie that she was ready to spring into action. But to her surprise, it was now she who wanted to wait and see.

"We need more information," Callie told her.

"More information? She's hanging on by a thread, Callie. Even George could see it."

"Well, yeah. But she obviously doesn't seem to see it, does she? No. If we go to her now, she'll just tell us she's fine and try to pretend like nothing's happening."

"So what do we do?"

"We collect more dirt, and we don't go to her with it until we're sure we have enough to push it. Can you handle the interns?"

"Yes…"

"Great. I need to talk to Joe."

She let O'Malley finish out the night on Addison's service. Then she went looking for Addison, to see for herself. She was half expecting to find a sobbing mess, a regular old 'surgeon going through nothing more serious than a thing' who just didn't want to break down in front of nurses and interns. But George had been right. She was repressing, and big-time.

Miranda eyed the tight, neat stacks of files on Addison's desk. "Looks like you're gearing up for a long night."

The shrug was just a little too controlled. She was holding in her tension, and it was taking a conscious effort at this point. Yikes.

"We were going to grab some drinks. You coming?" Miranda leaned forward, resting a palm on the desk. One of the file folders shifted a little. Without missing a beat, Addison straightened it.

"I might join you later. I really want to get this done."

Miranda picked up one of the folders, read the label. "Right. Cause you have really pressing notes to finish up on a c-section who was discharged three weeks ago?"

She caught Addison's eye, held her gaze, and very deliberately placed the file folder back on top of the stack, slightly crooked. Addison frowned just enough to let her know that she had recognized the game here, then righted it, lining up the corners.

"You know how it is. Once you fall behind…"

"Yeah. We'll be at Joe's."

She wanted to stay longer. She wanted to push Addison just a little more, so that maybe she'd finally crack and tell them something. But she had to get to Callie, right away, and report on this little meeting.

--

"Let me get this straight," Callie said. She plucked the lemon off the rim of her glass and squeezed it into the vodka tonic. "In the space of the last twelve hours, you went from 'she's fine, it's just a phase' to 'some combination of clinical depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder and alcoholism?' Damn. George must be a really good spy."

"You should have seen her, Callie."

"I have seen her. Are you forgetting that I was the one who brought this little crisis to your attention?"

"Oh."

"Well, do you want to hear what I found out? Joe says some nights, she leaves with us. Some nights, she leaves with Sloan. And one night…she very nearly left with Karev."

"Karev!"

"I know. I've seen her make the googly eyes a couple times, but I never thought it was progressing. Cliché, or what? But here's the part we can't miss, Miranda, and that's that every night, she's left from here. Joe's been seeing a lot of her."

They sipped their drinks for a second. After a moment, Miranda said "We leave from here a lot of nights too."

"Yeah, we do…but after only one or two drinks, not half a dozen. And we go home to someone…"

"…while she goes home alone."

"Or worse."

"Well, we just need to get her to leave with us, then. Take her home ourselves."

"God, you really are new at this, aren't you? Haven't you ever had your heart broken, Miranda? I mean, really, can't sleep, can't breathe, world spinning broken? A little bit of misdirection isn't going to make this stop. So we take her home with us, and? She sits in that god-awful hotel room and mopes and wallows and raids the mini-bar. That's worse! You know, it isn't alcoholism yet if she keeps the drinking to here, it's just a bad coping strategy. And…"

"And here, at least we have Joe to keep an eye on her?"

"Yeah, there's that. But you know, babysitting isn't really the long-term solution we're looking for."

"And all of this because of a man?" Miranda sighed.

"Not just a man, but a McDreamy. And Sloan being here, not helping any either. Poor kid! You can practically see the lines of pain wafting off of her."

"Okay, okay. We agree on that. So how do we pull her out of it? What do we do?"

"I want to sic your interns on her for a few more days, get as much data as we can. Grey is out, for obvious reasons. And I would say Karev is out too, although he might be worth debriefing. So, Stevens tomorrow. Then Yang. Then we meet again."

Miranda pushed the last of her drink aside. "You know, this friendship thing, this was supposed to be my R&R time. I don't feel very R&R'd."

"The night is young. Tell me something, Miranda. What are your feelings about karaoke?"

--

Stevens stared back at her with that same blank vacancy as George. "What do you mean, how was she?"

Miranda sighed. God help her if she had to go through this song and dance with all five of them. "Look, spread the word for me, will you, Stevens? Discreetly. Anything tough comes up with Dr. Montgomery, Dr. Bailey wants to know."

"If I spread the word, do I still have to be assigned to her service?"

"Stevens!"

"Fine. Can I go? There may be c-sections going on at this very moment which need my attention."

She watched Stevens walk away. "That girl has a smart mouth on her," she muttered, getting on with her own first chart. "One day, that's going to get her in trouble."

But she would worry about Stevens and her smart mouth later. One crisis at a time. Addison was close to the breaking point. She had to be, by now. Miranda planned to be there when she needed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

--

She was on her way to Recovery to check on some patients, when the chief stopped her.

"Have you got a second?"

"I was on my way to Recovery," she said.

"Uh huh. Have you got a second?"

He pulled her into the on-call room, latching the door behind them.

"What's going on with Addison, Miranda?"

She had not been expecting that. "Sir?"

"She's my friend too," he said, eyes somber and unblinking as he watched her face for signs of a reaction. "And she was my friend, my family, long before she ever met you. But you're women, and women have bonds, and men aren't always privy…"

She let him trail off, and he took her silence as an admission.

"Sloan wanted Stevens to scrub in on a procedure," he said. His voice was measured, was gentle. He understood her conflict. He was giving her permission to share. "She told him she had to watch Addison for you."

"Yes, sir. We…Dr. Torres and myself…we are concerned. She's been a little sad."

"She's had reason."

"Reason like she has only gives you so much slack. She's heading for bottom, Chief. You know it too."

"She had a life," he said. The voice of experience, now. "She had a life, and she misses it. She's lost Derek, she's lost Mark, heck, even Adele and me…she would lean on Adele. That's part of her funk. If things were different, she'd lean on Adele."

"Oh, Chief…"

He collected himself. "Anyway…"

"Talk to her," Miranda suggested. "You're going through it too. Talk to her, Richard."

"I don't know what I would say."

That was the problem, none of them did. There was nothing they could say.

--

To her surprise, the intern who finally brought them something was Meredith Grey.

"Dr. Bailey?"

She was in the cafeteria, about to split a turkey sandwich and a chocolate cookie with Callie. Both of them looked up at the voice, and Meredith gave Callie a weak, awkward smile.

"Grey, sit down before you fidget a hole into that floor. Torres, stop glaring. What can I do for you, Grey?"

"Well, I heard…I mean, they were saying that Addison…Dr. Montgomery…well, that you wanted to…"

"What, Grey? Is she okay?"

"She…we have a case coming in. Transfer from Mercy West. Car crash. It's bad. We had neuro and plastics ready to go when we found out she's eight months pregnant…"

Neuro meant Shepherd. Plastics meant Sloan. Fabulous.

"So, anyway…"

"Yeah. Thanks, Grey."

"Dr. Bailey?" Meredith stood again, nervous fingers pulling on her scrubs. "Um, I'm not sure what this is all about. Izzie and George were a little vague…but I guess it's still a little weird for Addison, since she hasn't…well, like Derek has. But they've worked together on a lot of cases. They're professionals. So…"

"Thank you, Dr. Grey," she said, curtly dismissing her. Callie waited until the intern was out of earshot again before letting out a low whistle. "Whoah."

"Yeah."

Callie pushed over her half of the cookie. "You have it. I think you need it more right now."

--

By the time she finished up with Callie and made her way up to the ambulance bay to track down Addison, things were stickier. Izzie had scrubbed in with Burke on a transplant yesterday. The patient had coded, and they had to go back in. He had just pulled Stevens off of Addison's service so she could follow it through with him.

So, Addison was going into an emotionally difficult and highly complex trauma with Yang as her intern. Yang, who had done nothing but complain since hearing the news. Yang, who was a brutal Jack Frost to Steven's soothing Earth Mother. Yang. But it got worse still. When she caught up with the lot of them, waiting for their patient to arrive, she found Karev under Shepherd's watchful eye, and Sloan smirking possessively over Meredith Grey. It had been her idea to rotate the interns a little more evenly among the different specialties. This was what it was getting her.

"Dr. Sloan. Dr. Shepherd."

"Dr. Bailey! Trying to get in on our exciting patient?" Shepherd teased.

"I have my own exciting patients, thank you. I was looking for Dr. Montgomery."

They traded glances. She sensed they were only just now noticing that Addison wasn't yet there.

"All right. Dr. Torres, maybe?"

More blank stares. Men were hopeless sometimes.

"Well, if Dr. Montgomery doesn't show up before the patient does," whined Yang, "Can I be assigned to someone who is maybe actually working?"

She had no patience for this right now. "Zip it, Yang. Or you'll be assigned to me. And you won't like where I put you."

Yang looked like she was considering a smart remark. What was it with the mouth on this lot? But she must have sensed she had better not push it.

"Karev," Miranda said.

He looked up, and she motioned him over. "Just keep an eye on things?" Callie must have already briefed him, for he nodded smartly and did not ask her to elaborate further.

--

When she finally did track down Callie, her partner in crime was unexpectedly delighted by the recent developments.

"This is good," she told Miranda. "This'll work."

"How will it work, exactly? High-risk mother, baby in jeopardy, Sloan and Shepherd and Grey…"

"Exactly! Even if she wasn't all whacked out or whatever, that would be a lot. But in her present mindset…"

"In her present mindset, she's likely to have a nervous breakdown, Callie."

"Which means that we won't need to push her. Look, Miranda, I've been talking to some people. And the problem right now? It's actually not the stress thing."

"It's not?"

"No. The problem is the superwoman denial-girl holding it all in thing. If we can get her to just release some of those feelings, it'll be a lot easier to get her help dealing with them."

"Okay…"

"I was afraid we'd have to, like, have an intervention or something to get her to that point. God, can you picture us doing that? I mean, I'm pretty sure I'd be okay because I'm kind of awesome, but you're still a little inept on the girl-bondy stuff, no offense."

She bit back a wry smile. "None taken."

"But now? This? We don't even need to push. This is awesome, awesome news."

"Not for the high-risk pregnant woman."

"Okay, not for her. But who knows, we may get a happy ending there. And then…"

"Then we push?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Look, are you in the clinic this afternoon? You should talk to Sydney. She's a bit of a perk-monster, but she knows her psych stuff. Let her fill you in."

"And you, oh intrepid partner in crime?"

"I have a surgery. Then, I'm meeting George in the gallery. We want to see what happens with the uber-patient."

"Yeah," said Miranda. "I think we all want to see."

--  



	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

--

The Sydney she found in the clinic was subdued and deferential.

"You're off your game, Dr. Heron," she remarked between patients.

"No. Just…Dr. Torres told me you had a friend."

She arched an eyebrow. "That surprises you?"

"No! Of course not! Just…look, we talked, and the thing is, I wanted you to know…"

"It's not me she was talking about," Miranda clarified. "There really is a friend."

"I know! And it sounds like you're right to be worried about her. But Dr. Torres got paged before I could finish explaining. The breakdown, whatever it is…that's just the starting point. The cry for help, it's not really helping until you answer it."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Well, it sounds like you're off to a good start, spending time with her, just being with her, letting her know you're there. But there will come a point where she's going to need professional aid---medication to help her stabilize her mood, maybe, and definitely some therapy if what we're dealing with is really a mood disorder."

"How do we know if it is?"

"That's why she'll need therapy. Professional therapy. It might surprise a mighty surgeon like you to know that there is a branch of medicine which specializes in this very thing…"

"Spare me."

"Look, I'm only saying that it might not be as straightforward as you think. Dr. Torres didn't tell me who it is, but I gather it's someone who works here?"

Slowly, she nodded.

"A fellow surgeon?"

She couldn't give that much away. But it didn't seem she needed to. Sydney was on a roll.

"Doctors make especially terrible patients, you know that. And when mental health is involved…well, it's so easy to think oh, it's not that bad. Nothing bleeding or broken or anything like that, so I can just work through it. Everybody has stress, in this line of work. I've been through worse."

Unwittingly, she found herself nodding. "Yeah. Something like that."

"And a difficult case comes in, and you throw yourself into it, and while it's happening, it keeps your mind off the pain. So you find another, and another, and you're spending all of your time at work, but it's okay because the adrenalin high is blocking out the inner demons. Or you go shoot some baskets or lift at the gym…do you know how many psych patients we get who come in with a broken bone? They over-do it on the court or at the ice rink or something like that, and it's what finally gets them into a hospital, where an alert intern just senses that something is very wrong…"

"Huh."

"Or you decide hey, I just need to de-stress a little. So I'll go out and have a few drinks…"

She perked up at that one.

"And you start thinking wow, I can't be much fun right now. So you push your friends away, or, you go looking for validation in all the wrong places, to convince yourself that people haven't seen through you yet, that everything is fine…"

Miranda sat down, the words hitting her hard. Sydney was touching every point, exactly. "You're right," she said. "On all of it, you're right."

"You know, there is an old joke from AA, about 'fine.' They say that what it really means is Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional."

"You're right. All of it. Dr. Heron…Sydney…is she a danger to her patients right now?"

"Ironically, she's not. She's probably at the top of her game right now, because it's one of her few distractions from everything else. If it goes wrong though…"

"If the patient dies, you mean?"

"Yeah. I would expect a really strong reaction."

"You'll get one. She's close to bottom, Sydney. I feel it."

"Dr. Bailey?"

"Hmmm?"

"She's not alone. There's help for her out there. If she does hit bottom? Be sure you make her understand that. There's help, and it works."

--

Addison, Derek and Mark were deep into a highly complicated c-section when Bailey finally found her way up there. She took a seat beside Callie and George.

"So?"

"So," Callie said. "It turns out that the neuro case? It's the baby, not the mom. It has a congenital something, and it was going to be born with problems, car accident or not."

"Oh."

"Shepherd keeps trying to butt in to have a look, but Addison's having trouble getting the baby out. The mom has some internal injuries…"

When the baby finally was out, they could see at once that something was very wrong. The head seemed unusually large, the colour had a grayish tint, and when Addison tickled the bottoms of the baby boy's feet, he didn't so much as quiver. Derek tried to jostle closer, but Addison pushed him aside.

"He's still under my jurisdiction," she snapped. "Neuro issues notwithstanding. He has diminished breath sounds, and erratic cardiac function. I need a full work-up on his heart and lungs. Yang!"

"I need my neuro work-up," Shepherd said. "Baby issues notwithstanding."

"If I don't get this baby an airway a.s.a.p, he won't live long enough for the neuro issue to be a problem. Move out of my way. Help Mark with the mother."

"I don't want to help Mark," he said, clearly losing patience. "The mother isn't my patient. The baby is. And I can hook him up to a ventilator just as well as you can."

"Derek. I will say this one more time. Stay out of my way right now. You'll get your hands on this baby when I say you will, and not a moment sooner. Yang! Get me a monitor, a tray and a ventilator. He's turning blue."

There was silence in the gallery for a moment. "Well," George finally said.

Callie shook her head. "If that wasn't the smackdown to end all smackdowns…"

"I'll be back," Miranda said.

"Where are you going?"

"She has to tell the baby's father. I want to hear what the prognosis is."

--

She held back, but saw everything clearly. The father was young, handsome and hunched over a prayer book. When Addison walked over, he put the book down and stood up. He had removed a dark suit jacket. A fringe hung out the bottom of his shirt.

"Mr. Scheir?" Addison said.

He nodded. "How's Hanna? And the baby?"

"Hanna is still in surgery, but we think she's going to be fine. She had some burns…some internal injuries…those, we took care of during the c-section. We have a plastic surgeon in there right now, looking at the rest of it.

"The…the baby?"

"Congratulations. You have a son."

She motioned to him to sit down, then sat down herself, beside him. "I wish I could give you better news about him. He was born with a condition called Hydrocephalus. Do you know what that is?"

"Hanna's doctor said…we knew there might be something, but I didn't really understand…"

"It's a build-up of fluid in the brain. The buildup causes pressure in his head which can lead to complications."

"Can you treat it?"

"Standard treatment would be the surgical implantation of a shunt, to drain the fluid. But in your son's case…Mr. Scheir, your son is almost two months premature. He's very small, and his lungs are under-developed. His heart is not very strong. There may be a congenital abnormality in that area. Or, he may have sustained injuries in the accident. It's hard to tell at this point. We're bringing in a cardiothoracic consult, which should tell us more. But right now, I don't think he'll withstand a surgery. We've given him some medication to help his lungs develop, and he's on a ventilator. If his lungs get stronger and his heart rhythm stabilizes, we can try to get the shunt in there in a couple days…"

"But what about his brain? Will it…will it be okay if we wait?"

"We don't know."

He looked at her helplessly. "So what do we do?"

"We wait and see. He's stable for now. Your wife should be out of surgery soon. Would you like to go see him?"

He was shaking his head. "This can't be happening. This just doesn't seem real…"

Addison tried to give him an encouraging smile. "One step at a time, Mr. Scheir. Have you got a name picked out?"

"We can't give him a name until he's official. When he's circumcised, at the bris, when he's eight days old."

Addison's eyes went blank, and Miranda could read it in her face, right then. She didn't think the baby would live that long.

--


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

--

Miranda was tied up for the next several hours in a bounce from the pit, but she came out of surgery to find Addison waiting for her.

"Hey, Miranda."

"Addison!"

She studied the redhead's face for signs of stress, trying not to be too obvious. Addison looked tired. Didn't they all, though?

"Can we talk for a sec?"

"Sure we can."

"Great. You coming to Joe's tonight? I don't know how your day's been, but I could really, really use a drink."

"Oh. Um, yeah."

"Good. So, look, you want in on the Scheir baby?"

"What? I mean, not that I don't, but do you really need me? Sounds like it's already a little bit crowded."

"What, the heart thing? Yeah, Mercy didn't catch that on the admit. Burke will do fine. And Derek…"

There was a slight tightening around her mouth. "Let's not talk about that. Medically? We probably don't need another doc in there. This is kind of a…a personal request. I guess I just kinda want a neutral party in there. It's feeling a little…a little charged, you know?"

"Because of Derek and Sloan?"

"No! Sloan's out of there, he was working on the mom. And Derek, we're adults, we're professionals. We generally handle it okay."

"But this time?"

She shrugged. "Little turf war, maybe. Neuro or not, he's a high-risk newborn, which makes him my patient. Derek…I don't know. It's not about…look, I just have a feeling about this one. I don't know. I want someone in there with me."

Under other circumstances, she would have refused. Get in the middle of the McMess with the McEx? Hell, no. But she did want in on this one. If Addison was asking…

Still, she felt that for appearances sake, she ought to offer up a token rejection. "That's why god invented interns, Addie."

"What, Yang? Come on. I want someone in there with ME, Miranda."

She sighed. "Okay. Let's go meet the folks."

--

They had brought in the mother. Addison clearly hadn't realized that had happened already, and she broke composure for a minute. But she recovered quickly and bent down to shake hands with the tiny brunette in the wheelchair.

"Mrs. Scheir. I'm Dr. Montgomery, and this is Dr. Bailey."

The woman had bandages on her face and right arm, which hung limply, but protectively over her abdomen. She squirmed in the wheelchair, winced, but returned the handshake.

"Hanna, please. So many doctors."

Addison ran a hand against the incubator, smiling at the baby. "I'm one of his, actually. How's he doing?"

"Nurses say he's a fighter. I…I don't know. I haven't seen him awake yet."

"You will."

"Noah---my husband---the baby was awake when Noah was here. The nurses let him change the diaper." Her eyes welled up. "He'll be okay, won't he? I mean, there's still things we can do?"

"There are," interrupted Derek Shepherd, coming up behind them. "Mrs. Scheir, I'm Dr. Shepherd, one of your baby's doctors."

The woman frowned. "But…I thought…"

"Mrs. Scheir, I'm what they call a neurologist," he said, subtly nudging Addison aside as he pulled up a stool beside the mother. "That means I specialize in difficulties related to the brain. Has your husband explained to you, about the shunt procedure?"

"Call me Hanna," she said.

"Excuse me," said Addison. "Derek…?"

"Just a second, Addison. Hanna, as I was explaining, your son has a condition in which the fluid in his brain is not draining properly. This is creating a build-up of pressure in his head which we need to relieve as soon as possible. Now, I know he seems very small and weak right now…"

"I don't understand," she said. "The other doctor told my husband we couldn't do that yet."

"Derek," said Addison again.

"I'm with a patient, Addie. Now, as I was saying…"

"Now, Derek!" said Addison. She hauled him to his feet and nearly yanked him bodily out of the room. Miranda directed her attention back to the incubator, and once she had the mother safely enraptured with the newborn again, she moved closer to the door, so she could hear what was happening.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Addison demanded.

"He's my patient, Addie."

"He's MY patient, Derek. And I was in the middle of speaking with the family about him. You couldn't hold off on your testosterone pissing match until the mother was out of earshot? Did you see how confused that poor woman looked?"

"He is my patient, Addison. Baby or not, he's neuro, and your insistence on delaying the shunt procedure is endangering his life!"

"You forget how delicate preemie newborns are. That's why he stays MY patient, neuro or not. Yes, the Hydrocephalus is a concern. And trust me, I am keeping an eye on it. But he's still having arrhythmias, and he's got almost zero lung function. He wouldn't last five minutes on the table."

"I think he can handle it."

"I think he can't. And because he's a preemie newborn, it's my call. Stay out of this, Derek."

"Oh, come on. And you think I'm the one in the pissing match? What's going on here, Addison? Why aren't you letting me in on this one?"

"This is not about you."

"Like hell."

"I'll notify you when I think he's ready for the shunt. You can scrub in with me."

"How gracious."

"But in the meantime, stay out of my way. And if you EVER undermine me like that in front of a patient's family again, so help me…"

"Addison…"

"Stay out of my way, Derek. Stay. Out. Of. My. Way."

At that opportune moment, the baby coded.

--

Callie answered her page in record time.

"Everything okay?"

"Stay close. She's coming out in a second."

"What happened?"

"Pissing match with Shepherd, then the baby turned blue. We have him stabilized, but she's still in there calming down the mother."

Derek was the first to emerge from the NICU. "Bailey. Nice work in there."

"Shepherd. You still think he's ready for surgery?"

He looked back at Addison, then at Miranda, then at Callie. "You too?"

"Let's not get into that. If I may offer you a piece of constructive advice, Dr. Shepherd? I'd do what she told you. I'd stay out of her way."

"It really isn't your business, Dr. Bailey. But I'll just let you know that in spite of how it may seem to you, it's been hard on me too. There are things I'm not proud of. I'm trying to deal with them. And I may be…in a relationship again…but Addison is still a part of my life, and I care about her."

"Uh huh."

"I've done my best to keep my job separate. We work together, Addison and I. We have to keep the personal stuff separate."

"Sure you do."

"So, yeah. I'm doing my part. And I will not just hand over a neuro case because Addison doesn't feel like doing hers."

He walked away, and Callie sighed. "He so doesn't get it, does he?"

"Actually, he kind of does. He just goes about it wrong. What he did in there is not the way to set healthy boundaries."

"She must have been pissed."

"I could hear her teeth grinding from all the way outside the room. We take her out tonight, she'll be a live one."

Callie peeked into the NICU. "Looks like they're settling."

Noah Scheir had arrived a few minutes ago, and Addison was nudging them both toward the incubator. Callie and Miranda tiptoed in.

"He's sleeping," Addison said, smiling fondly at the baby. "Quite a scare you gave us, Tiger."

The parents traded amused glances. "Tiger?"

"We like to give 'em fighting names."

Hanna smiled. "I like that."

"He doesn't really look like a tiger though," Noah said.

"No? How about…Killer?"

Both of them laughed this time.

"Cougar? Panther? Ace?"

"He looks like a lamb to me," Hanna said. "See that soft little tuft of hair he has?"

"No, not a lamb," said Noah. "A lion. He needs a fighting name."

"So, Leo? Like a lion?" asked Addison.

"Ari. It's lion, in Hebrew."

She smiled at the baby again. "Ari it is. Shall I get you three tucked in for the night?"

--

It wasn't until they got to the parking lot that they noticed how tired she looked.

"I don't know, Addison," Callie said. "You sure you're up for drinks?"

Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hands were jittery. "I need to go somewhere. I need to do something."

"Yeah, we get that. Just…god, Addison, you look like shit."

She laughed. "Thanks for that. You're supposed to be my friend, you know."

"And it's because I'm your friend that I can tell you that. Look, do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Heard Shepherd pissed you off."

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Just take me somewhere. Please."

"Not Joe's," said Callie. "I want you to closer to home."

"Just drive, will you?"

Then her pager went off. Addison rooted into her bag, pulled it out, looked at the display. Then she promptly burst into tears. "I can't…I can't…"

Miranda climbed into the backseat with her, folded her into her arms. "Shhh, Addie. Breathe. Breathe."

She was shaking, so overwhelmed, she could barely speak. "I can't…I can't…"

Without a word, Callie picked up her cell, dialed a number. "Yang. It's Torres. You paged Dr. Montgomery? Yeah, she's here. Look, what's…okay…so you don't need her to…okay, okay, one sec…"

Callie covered the phone with her hand. "She wants to know if you want her to dose the baby with steroids one more time before she clocks out for the night."

"That's it?" Miranda asked. "We don't need to go in again?"

"Nope."

"Addison?"

Addison nodded assent, the sobs finally tapering off.

"Yang, that sounds good. Yeah, no, you did the right thing. Look, Bailey's on it too. Any further questions, you can page her. No, it's fine, she needs a…yeah, right. She's been on for awhile. Right, okay. So, Bailey's on it, you clear?"

She hung up the phone. "We don't have to go back in."

"I just need a break," Addison said. "I need a break. I need to go somewhere."

Callie grinned. "I know just the place."

--

The hotel had a bar, and a good one. Miranda nudged Callie with a smirk. "Clever girl."

"Yeah. That wasn't my only reason, though. It's Thursday."

"And?"

"Well, I kind of…look, this is girl-secret territory, this one. You spill, you die. Both of you."

That finally got a grin out of Addison. "Oh?"

"Well, I kind of…I have an act, okay? And they comp me my room if I play every Thursday. It's Thursday."

"You sing?" Addison clarified.

"Yeah. You guys want a shout-out? I can do a shout-out…"

As 'friends of the band,' they got the royal treatment: free drinks, a platter of wings and another platter of fried things.

"She's good," Addison said, watching Callie work her way through a jazz standard.

"She is," Miranda agreed. "Now, this? This feels like girl time."

"Yeah."

"You ready to talk now?"

"Miranda? Don't nag."

"All right. All right."

"I mean, I appreciate the gesture. I do. I just…it's been a long day. I'm fine. I'm fine."

Miranda knew what that meant now. And frankly? She thought even Sydney's interpretation of 'fine' was a bit of an understatement.

--


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

--

When Miranda arrived at the NICU the next day, Addison was breezing through the ward, checking on patients as if nothing had happened. Her hair was glorious. Her make-up was immaculate. She was dressed smartly in black pants and a rust-coloured jacket. When she saw Miranda, she turned on the killer perky.

"Miranda!"

"Addison. You're in a good mood…"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"You know, it's amazing what a good night's sleep will do for you. Thanks for seeing me home last night. I needed that."

"Yeah. So…"

"So, our patient? Right. Stable for now, I think. Vitals are holding steady from last night. Derek," she continued with a very slight sneer, "Has not been in to see him yet. Burke has, though. Says he's still waiting on a few test results, but should have more to tell the parents by lunchtime. Hanna got to change his diaper."

"Fabulous."

"Look, I have some other patients to check on. Can you stay here for a bit, page me if Burke or Shepherd get here?"

"Okay…"

"Fabulous. Later!"

She spotted Yang, over at the incubator. "Dr. Yang."

"Dr. Bailey! Just the person I was looking for."

"Oh?"

"Dr. Burke has a quadruple valve replacement scheduled this afternoon."

"Uh huh."

"He will almost certainly be wanting an intern to scrub in."

"Then he knows what he has to do about it, Yang. He has to find someone who is in possession of some interns, and he has to ask that person to assign him one."

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm getting at."

"I know that allowing you to favour Dr. Burke, just because the two of you are in a relationship, is not…"

"That's not why!"

"All right. I know that allowing you to favour Dr. Burke, just because your talented but inexperienced self thinks it wants to go into cardiothoracic, is not fair to you, or to the other interns, all of whom should be spending this first year experiencing the full diverse range of surgical patients who present in this hospital."

"But…"

"You were assigned to a patient, and it is your job to follow through with that patient, Dr. Yang. Same way Stevens got pulled back to cardiothoracic when her heart patient coded yesterday. You follow through with your patient."

"So I'm stuck in the baby ward until the kid dies?"

"Dr. Yang!"

"Sorry. Just…look, may I speak candidly for a moment?"

"I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

"She makes me nervous."

"Who does?"

"Dr. Montgomery. She's…"

"Intelligent? Dedicated? Passionate?"

"Maybe a little too passionate," Yang said. "This baby, she's like, obsessed. It's like Denny Duquette all over again."

"That's quite a statement."

"Look, between you and me? This baby's not going to make it. Either we open his head to put the shunt in, and he codes on the table. Or we wait and see, and the cerebrospinal fluid builds up in his brain, and he strokes out. He's not going to make it."

"It is not for us to say."

"Look, Dr. Montgomery? She's top-notch. I learned a lot, it was very nice… so, can I go back to Dr. Burke now?"

"No."

"Dr. Bailey!"

She had to talk to Callie. But who knew, when she dipped her toe into the scary realm of friendship, that it would involve guarding babies from exes and interns? She was stuck in the NICU, for now.

--

When Shepherd arrived, she was alone with the baby. Yang had gone to chase down the labs for Burke, and the parents were breakfasting in the cafeteria.

"Dr. Bailey. Just the person I was looking for."

"Is that so? I can't sign the baby off to you, Shepherd."

"That's not why I'm here. Look, this is a little awkward for me."

"Uh huh."

"I was hoping you could talk to Addison."

"About?"

"What do you think?"

Miranda sighed. "Are we doing this again? Didn't we do this already?"

"He's going to stroke out, Miranda."

"He'll code on the table, Derek."

"He's on a ventilator and a pacemaker. He'll survive a code. But it won't do him much good if he has no brain function."

"Not my call."

"Damn it! Why is she being so stubborn about this?"

"Why are you?"

He stopped for a second. "She makes it personal. Why does she always have to make it personal?"

"Personal, how?"

"She gets involved. She identifies. You know this is going to end badly."

"And you know it too, Shepherd. Answer my question. Why do you care so much?"

"Because my way is the only way we'll have the slightest chance of saving him."

"And if he dies on the table?"

"It will be over swiftly. For her, and for that poor family."

Miranda sighed. "The man shows unexpected depth."

"What's that supposed to mean? Is she making me the bad guy? In your new little girl-pact, is she making me the bad guy?"

"You broke her heart, then you moved on."

"She broke my heart too, you know."

"But you moved on. She hasn't yet."

"But…"

"Shut it, McDreamy. I'm explaining it to you. You get that she's hurting. Points to you for that. But what you haven't got yet? What makes me the friend and you the asshole? We're both seeing the same thing here. And me? I'm concerned. You? You're annoyed."

--


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

--

They were having coffee in the cafeteria when Burke came to get them.

"News on the baby?" Addison asked.

He nodded. "Thought I'd give you the heads-up before we tell the family."

"That doesn't sound promising."

"You were right, Addison. The heart, it's a congenital defect. No fix. He'll code on the table."

"Then we aren't doing the shunt?"

"That's your call. But you know what it means."

"He'll stroke out."

"Eventually, yes."

"So those are my choices? Kill him slowly, or do it right away?"

"Addison." He picked up her hand, sandwiched it between his bigger ones, squeezed gently. "Look at me."

"They're such nice people."

"They are. And they have a very, very sick baby."

"He never had a chance. I need you to tell me, he never had a chance."

He sighed. "Nobody ever finds cases like this easy."

"Say it, Preston."

"Addison. He never had a chance. There is nothing you could have done. There is nothing you can do. There is no choice you can make, now or later, that will let this boy have anything remotely resembling a normal life. There is nothing you can do. There is no chance."

She nodded, blinking rapidly, willing back tears. "Yeah. I needed you to say it."

"We all need that sometimes."

"Let's tell them."

Callie and Miranda watched her walk off, in Preston Burke's capable company. "Now that," Callie said. "Is a man who knows how to handle things."

"He did good," Miranda agreed. "Should I go with?"

"Let her stand on her own for a bit. We've got time."

--

Another bounce from the ER occupied Miranda for the rest of her shift. When she finally caught up with Callie, it was almost 9 pm.

"Hey, Miranda."

"Hey, Callie."

"I haven't eaten in seven hours."

"I haven't eaten in four."

"You up for wings?"

"Hour's grace, baby. Where's Addison?"

"Yeah. About that."

"Oh?"

"Yang? She whines like you wouldn't believe, but she's not a bad spy. Said the meeting with Burke and the parents was rough. Said Addison spent the rest of the shift in uber-snippy Bitch mode."

"Lovely."

"Then she said she had 'paperwork' and that she'd be here all night. Sprung Cristina early."

"Oh dear."

"I suppose we'd better find out what's the what, shouldn't we?"

Miranda sighed. "I suppose we'd better."

They found her curled up in a darkened on-call room just off the NICU, twiddling the buttons on a grubby ipod.

"You take this one," Miranda said.

Callie nodded, sat down on the cot beside Addison. "Hey."

Addison looked up, eyes blank and watery. "Hey."

"Watcha listening to?"

"Some kind of post-punk goth metal. I borrowed it from Karev. Thought all the screaming would make me feel better."

"Did it?"

"No."

Unlike Miranda, Callie didn't push, and Addison kept talking. "I'm sorry. I know I've been a bit of a…project…"

"That's what friends are for, babe. You'll pay it back sometime."

"It's getting under my skin, this one. I feel it getting under my skin."

"We all get ones like that."

"They want to let him stroke out."

"Who, hon?"

"The parents. They have this religious thing where if he dies before he's had the…the bris, they called it…he doesn't get a name. And if he doesn't get a name, he doesn't get a grave, or a funeral, or a….anything. He just ends. Anonymous grave. Just disappears, like he never was there in the first place. They don't _count_ him, if he doesn't get a name."

"Oh, Addie…"

"If he dies on the table, it's over. But if he strokes out…he's on a ventilator. He's on a pacemaker. We can keep him technically alive indefinitely."

"He won't come out of it. Do they understand he won't come out of it that way?"

"They don't need him to come out of it. They just need him to last six more days, until they're allowed to have the ceremony. Then they can name him, and they can count him, and they can have a grave. They don't want to pretend he never happened, Callie. They want him to get a name. He exists!"

"Yeah, he does."

"It'll be over soon, we all know it will. But they want to be able to remember. He happened. They are a family, and it's real, and it's there, and they don't want to just forget that it ever happened…"

She sniffled noisily. "It's getting under my skin. I don't know why."

It seemed obvious, didn't it? Miranda was still learning the girl stuff, but even she could figure this one out.

Callie gently rubbed Addison's shoulder. "Okay. You want to go out for a bit? Try to put it away for awhile?"

"Yeah. Lets. I have my pager. If he…"

"Yeah. Let's go, hon. Come on."

--

They went to the bar in the hotel again, and it was crowded. "Open Mic Night," Callie said. "Every Friday. Nothing clears the head like bad karaoke."

They got a corner table, ordered wings and beer.

"I sing," Miranda mentioned, as they worked through their pitcher.

Addison's eyes widened. "What?"

"That's my secret. Like Callie said, you tell, you die."

"I want to hear it," Addison said.

She shrugged. "Eh."

"Miranda, come on! You can just take out a gun like that and not pull the trigger!"

"Oh, all right! 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' or 'I Will Survive?'"

They cheered her on, and she ripped through Gloria Gaynor to raucous applause. Then, Callie said "Maybe I'll sing too."

"Open Mic Night. They aren't paying you."

"That's not the only reason I do it."

Addison pushed aside the last of her wings. "Well, I don't sing. So if one of us is going to put an end to a night of bad Whitney Houston and even worse Britney Spears, it'll have to be you."

"Something quiet," Miranda said. "We all need bed soon."

Callie winked. "I know just the thing."

Miranda, feeling contemplative, gave Addison the once over. "I'm sorry you're hurting."

"I'll get over it."

"Yeah. It's okay to miss him, Addison."

"Uh huh."

"He was part of your life. That doesn't go away. And it hasn't for him, either."

"Please, can we just not talk right now? I just want to not talk."

She reached for her friend's hand. Addison pulled back for a second. Then, she let her take it.

--

"This is going out to a special little fighter, and his guardian angels at Seattle Grace Hospital," Callie said, taking the podium. "The song is Irish Heartbeat. Van Morrison. Here's hoping this little guy, and his, find peace together."

_Oh won't you stay,  
Stay a while, with your own ones.  
Don't ever stray,  
Stray so far from your own ones._  
'_Cause the world is so cold,  
Don't care nothing for your soul,  
That you share, with your own ones_

Addison smiled. "She has a beautiful voice."

"Yeah. She does."

_Don't rush away,  
Rush away, from your own ones.  
Just one more day,  
One more day with your own ones._  
'_Cause the world is so cold,  
Don't care nothing 'bout your soul,  
That you share, with your own ones_

"Miranda?"

"Hmmm?"

"People like you…like Yang…how do you not get involved?"

"Oh, Addie…"

"I mean, does it make it easier? It seems like it would make it easier…"

"May seem. But it isn't. I do get involved, but I lean. I got lucky. I have a great husband, and he gets me. I lean on him."

"I don't have a husband." Addison said.

"No. But you still have people you can lean on. I get you. Callie gets you. Heck, from what I saw today, even Preston Burke gets a thing or two…"

_There's a stranger,  
And he's standing at your door.  
Might be your best friend, might be your brother,  
You may never know…_

"Miranda?"

"Hmmm?

"I miss leaning."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I can do it again. When I fall apart, I just…I…"

"Yeah. Let it out, Addison. Why on god's green earth will you not just let it out already?"

They all leaned, in their own way. Maybe this singing business was Callie's way. Addison had Derek, and she didn't have him now. She had to find a way to lean again.

'_Cause the world is so cold,  
It don't care nothing for your soul,  
That you share, with your own ones_

--


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

--

Improbably, their little lion lasted through the night with nary a whimper. Shepherd was in there first thing, checking out his neuro function.

"Looks good," he told the assembled crew---parents, Addison, Burke, Bailey and interns. "Looks unbelievably good, actually. He's a fighter."

"He has a fighting name," said Hanna with a smile. She squeezed her husband's hand. "It was a good suggestion, giving him one. He is a fighter, this boy."

Miranda didn't find that particularly cheering. It was just a matter of time, lord knew it was just a matter of time. She had seen this before, during her own internship, when she volunteered at a group home for severely disabled children. Rationally, everyone knew it was just a matter of time. But the longer the child was with them, the harder he fought, the more they convinced themselves that this one was going to defy the odds. And when the end inevitably, brutally came, it was all the harder…

"It's still an issue," Shepherd clarified. "The fluid will accumulate in his brain. The pressure will induce a stroke. Unless we go in there…"

"We've been through that already," Addison said.

"I'm only saying that he IS a fighter. But…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

--

By lunchtime, Addison was waxing rhapsodic about how pink he looked. "The pacemaker is keeping his heartbeat regulated. Even I'm coming around on the surgery thing," she told Callie. "But now it's the parents who are dragging their feet."

"They don't want him dying on the table," Callie said.

"But Callie, if there's a chance, any chance at all…"

Callie laid it out for Miranda with grim, somber firmness. "I spelled it out for her, Miranda. I mean, I know, none of this is exactly falling under my specific area of expertise, but I get it. And I spelled it out. Say they do put the shunt in. He's still got negligible lung function, and a heart defect to boot. What are the odds? I mean, really, what are the odds?"

"Assuming that the fluid build-up hasn't already caused brain damage?"

"Assuming that."

"And assuming there is a surgery that will fix the heart defect, that he survives said surgery, and that his lung function can be improved?"

"That's what I was saying."

"And how did she respond to this little pep talk?"

"She told me he was a fighter."

"He's three days old. He's only capable of so much fight."

"I said that too."

"And?"

"And she told me I sounded like Derek. So I dropped it."

"Oh. Oh ho ho."

"What?"

"So that's part of it, is it? That's bad. She's pushing harder because _Derek_ has told her she's going to lose?"

Callie sighed. "Okay, this McDivorce? It's turning into quite the McMess, isn't it? Why is he all wrapped up in this?"

"Same reason those parents want that baby to get his name. Because it means something, and she doesn't want to have to pretend it doesn't, or didn't. He's moved on already. He's pushed it away. He's buried it, and there is nowhere they can go to visit it again."

"So, what, you're saying that if he just admits she mattered to him, all of this will go away?"

"It won't go away. But it'll start healing. She needs to know she's still on his radar. She needs him to affirm that she happened, that what they had together meant something. That it means something still, even if it doesn't mean the same thing it used to mean."

"And you say you suck at the girl thing…"

"I know. Sometimes, I surprise myself with my insight."

"So we should talk to him, maybe. Tell him what he has to do."

She shook her head. "I figured it out. He can too. That's his way to prove he really means it. He has to figure it out."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait, Callie. We wait."

"Damn."

"Yeah. Damn."

Callie lined up. It was time to buy another cookie.

She kept waiting for the 911 page, but improbably, it never happened. One day passed, then two days, then three, and the baby fought like the lion he was. There were a few minor codes, but the pressure in his brain held steady. He didn't stroke out.

Addison was euphoric. "He's a little miracle, that boy."

"He's going to die," Callie hissed in Miranda's ear. "Does she not understand that he's going to die?"

"Such a fighter! You should come up and see him, Callie. He's all pink and wriggly and adorable…"

"And totally, totally going to die," Callie muttered under her breath. But Addison was beyond hearing her. She was beyond noticing the stagnant lung development, and weakening cardiac function.

"I want to replace the pacemaker," Burke told them, on the morning of Ari's sixth day of life.

"Replace it? Why?"

"Tissue damage. Too many codes…"

But Addison still couldn't see it. She was in the NICU every spare moment she had, fawning over baby Ari. Once, she even brought his mother Hanna to one of her coffee breaks with the girls.

"We're making plans for the bris," Hanna told them. "We've booked the rabbi, and the mohel. He's the one who makes the ritual cut. They're coming to the NICU, and they'll do it here. You're all invited."

"Great," Bailey said.

"I know he's still…there will be challenges. But once he's named…I just have a good feeling, you know? He's a fighter, this one. He's a fighter."

Callie nodded absently, and munched on her cookie. "Yup. Sounds like."

Nice as it was to have Addison happy again, Callie and Miranda found themselves as contrast growing more and more wound up. The baby was going to stroke out. Everybody knew he would, and the longer he went without doing it, the sooner it was due to come. And then…who knew what would happen?

"She's headed for meltdown, that's for sure," they heard Cristina say. She was having lunch with the other interns, and Miranda was just close enough to overhear it. "Have you seen the way Bailey's been watching her? Something's up, and she's headed for meltdown, for epic, epic meltdown, just as soon as that baby kicks it."

"Well, that's perhaps not the most tactful way of putting it," Callie conceded when Miranda told her what she'd heard. "But…Christ, Miranda, even Yang knows it. Yang!"

"So what do we do?"

"What can we do? She's as bad as that baby is. We're sitting here, knowing it's coming. Damn."

"Yeah. That."

At 10:34 pm, on the evening of Ari's seventh day of life, they got the 911. He was stroking out.

-- 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 

--

They convened in the NICU, a sober lot: Callie, Miranda, Derek, Burke and Addison. She took the lead on stabilizing the baby. The men stayed out of her way. When she spoke to the parents, it was with impassive, professional efficiency:

"He's stable."

They nodded tearfully.

"He's on life support. It's pumping his blood and keeping his lungs inflated."

"How long can he stay that way?" Noah asked.

"How long do you want him to?"

The parents traded glances, knowing what they had to do. "Call the rabbi, Hanna. We need to move it up. Come on, little one. Just a bit longer…"

"Is he…is he suffering?" Hanna asked.

"He has…his brain is no longer functioning," Derek said gently. "It isn't regulating his body anymore. He has no awareness, Hanna. He isn't feeling anything."

"So he isn't suffering."

"No."

They made their phone calls. Hanna's parents were too far away to come. Noah's would not arrive in time. But the rabbi and mohel were making a special dispensation and trekking out to Seattle Grace in the dead of night.

"We hope you'll stay for the ceremony," Hanna said.

"Of course we will." Derek touched her hand with a gentle smile. "Of course."

They turned their pagers on, in case they were needed elsewhere. All of them secretly knew they wouldn't be. The fates would give them this one. They would let them be, until it was over.

--

"She's taking it well," Callie whispered.

It wasn't over yet, though, and they could see the tilt of her jaw as she bit her lip, and the twitch of her fists as she fiddled with her pen. Nervous tics. It wasn't over yet.

"We're ready," the rabbi told them. The room was crowded now: interns, nurses, all of those who had worked on the baby over the last week and a bit. The rabbi and the mohel had set up a small table, on which they had placed the incubator, and various accoutrements. "Can we remove him from the incubator?" the mohel asked.

"Very carefully," Addison said.

She reached in with one hand, and almost sprung back when it brushed against Derek's. Her eyes clenched shut for a second, then she recovered, and helped him gently pull out the baby and untangle him as best they could.

"Blessed is the one arriving," said the rabbi softly. He chanted in Hebrew for a moment. "Blessed are you who has sanctified us with his commandments, and commanded us concerning circumcision. Blessed are you who has sanctified us with his commandments, and commanded us to enter him into the covenant of Abraham."

The rabbi gently folded Noah's hands around the baby. "Hold him, like this. There you go. Now, the wine…"

The wine was blessed. Then the rabbi motioned Hanna closer, and she whispered in his ear, the name. The rabbi nodded, and gamely smiled. "Our God and God of our fathers, preserve this child for his father and mother, and his name in Israel shall be called…Nathan Ari, the son of Noah and Hanna. May the father rejoice in his offspring, and his mother be glad with the fruit of her womb."

Even the rabbi's voice was wobbling a little. They couldn't change the words, just because the baby was sick. It wouldn't be sanctified, if they did. So he was reading it, like he would for any child, like this child had a future too…

The rabbi passed around the wine to both parents, then called the mohel forward to perform the ritual cut. He spilled some wine onto a cloth, held it over the baby's mouth and squeezed a few drops out, then loosened his diaper. He made the cut, finished the chanting in Hebrew, then repeated it for the benefit of the witnesses.

"Sovereign of the universe, may it be your will that this child be regarded and accepted by you as if I had offered him before the throne of your glory. And may you, in your abounding mercy, send through your angels a holy and pure soul to Nathan Ari, the son of Noah and Hanna, who has now been circumcised for the sake of your great name."

Hanna bowed her head.

"May this little infant, Nathan Ari, become great. Just as he has entered the covenant, so may he enter into Torah, into marriage, and into good deeds."

Hanna staggered, and was gathered up by her husband, his eyes shining too. "Is it done, Rabbi?"

"It is done. He has entered into the covenant, Noah. You have a son."

"His name is Hebrew," Noah said. "Nathan. 'He was given.' And he was. For a short time, but just the same. Nathan Ari. A lion was given."

"Yes. He was."

Noah hugged his wife closer, then nodded to Addison. "You can take him off the ventilator now, and the…the rest of it. We'll stay with him until he goes."

"We will too," Addison said.

"Rabbi, you'll speak to the funeral home? Make the arrangements?"

"Yes, Noah."

There was silence. They listened to the steady beep of the monitor as it tapered off, then as it came to life again, with the insistent warning shrill of arrest.

Addison flinched, reflexes trained to act. The beep trilled on, then flatlined.

--

There was a split second of total silence. Then Addison screamed. The parents, still too stunned to react themselves, looked up, then burrowed deeper into each other's arms.

"Addison?" Miranda stood, ready to jump in, but she couldn't get close. Addison had crumpled to the floor in a heap of sobs, struggling for breath, sucking in gasping shudders, her body twitching.

"Why don't you come with me," Burke said, eyeing Addison nervously as he put his arm around the parents. "We'll find you a room, and you can stay with him as long as you need to, hold him in your arms without the tubes and wires…"

"Whoa," Cristina said. She took half a step toward the spectacle of her boss, in extremis, then stepped back, nodding to the other interns. "We should…uh…we should take five. Shouldn't we?"

And, in the first small mercy she had shown since her unceremonious assignation to Addison's service, she cleared the nurses and interns out. It was just Callie, Miranda and Derek now---and Addison, trying to talk, trying to cry, too overcome to manage anything more than shuddering and whimpering.

"We should stop this," Callie pleaded, a note of panic in her voice. "Addison…Addison, look at me. Addison!"

Miranda shook her head, knelt down, tried to get close. But she lashed out, thrashing, hyperventilating, screaming out sobs between laboured breaths. Miranda moved closer, then stopped, feeling a hand on her shoulder.

"Let me," Derek said. He got down on the floor with her, edged his way toward her. They watched as he delicately inched closer, step by step, holding out his hand ahead of him as if he was coaxing a wild animal. "Addie? Baby, come here, come here…"

She let him take her. He eased his arms around her and held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring "Shh, shh, it's okay…" She relaxed, then struggled again, chest rattling with laboured wheezes. After a moment's flailing, she went limp.

"She's out," Derek said. He gently brushed the sweat-dampened hair out of her eyes. "Poor thing."

"Let's get her to the clinic," Callie said. "She can sleep it off there. We'll take her, Derek."

"But…"

"We'll take her. Here, get a…there we go. Miranda?"

"Right."

"But…" Derek interrupted them. "Can I do something? I want to do something."

Miranda granted him a small smile. "You did already. You want to do something else? Track down Sydney Heron for me, then send her on to the clinic, okay?"

"Sydney Heron? But…"

"Derek. Do you want to lose that point you just earned?"

"But…"

"Go, Shepherd! Trust me on this. She's in good hands."

"Yeah. She'll be okay."

"Damn right. I personally will see to it. Go, like you've been told. We'll see you on the flipside."

--


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

--

The clinic was deserted at this hour. Miranda kept the lights in dim mode. She suspected that Addison was rousing, but she had burrowed under the blankets as soon as they had gotten her onto a bed. Hiding under the pillows, like a lost little kid. Callie was doing her best to be gentle.

"Addison? Look, I'm just going to sit here, okay? And if you want to, I don't know, say anything…look, we're here, okay? Bailey and me, we got you, and we're here, and…yeah, okay, I'm babbling, but…crap. I have no idea what I should be doing right now. Miranda?"

"I'm here, Callie." Miranda opened the curtain, came into the enclosure with them. She had more blankets with her, and a bottle of water, which she uncapped and placed on the bedside tray. "She come out yet?"

"No, but I think she's awake again."

"Yeah? Then we should stop talking about her like she isn't here, shouldn't we?"

She climbed onto one side of the bed then rooted under the sheets, looking for Addison's hand, which she clasped gently.

"Callie?" she made a 'come on' motion, and Callie moved to join her, when they heard the clinic door open. Callie hopped off the bed, arms unconsciously folding across her chest in protective mama-bear mode.

"Dr. Torrres? Dr. Bailey?"

They traded glances. Shepherd. Great.

"I'll get it," Callie said.

They heard the door open again, and Callie went out to reception just in time to watch Meredith Grey wander in, Sydney Heron in tow. A wrecked-looking Derek went straight to Meredith.

"Meredith? Oh my god…" He slowly embraced her, hands sinking into her hair, drinking in the smell of her.

"Derek?" Meredith said. "I came as soon as I…how is she?"

"I…oh god, Meredith, that was…I mean, seeing her that way…"

"I know, baby, I know. Shh, it's okay…the important thing is that she's okay." They both noticed Callie watching them. "Callie?" Meredith said. "She's okay, right? Cristina said…"

"She _will_ be okay," Callie allowed. "Not sure she's there yet, but she'll be okay."

Derek exhaled. "Thank god. That was…"

"Yeah. You handled it, Shepherd."

"I know how to. My god, Callie, that was just…"

"Uh huh. You worked it, Shepherd. Nice save. Didn't know you had it in you."

His face darkened, then he shook his head, clutching Meredith closer. "You know what? Don't even."

Callie shrugged. "Fair enough. You earned a freebie."

"I earned more than that. Look, I still don't know exactly how this all came about, exactly. I mean, she was having a thing, obviously, and I missed it, and…"

"You missed it? Shepherd, you _were_ it! At least in part. Do you have any idea…"

"Dr. Torres? Do you honestly think that if I did, I would have let it get this far?"

"I didn't think you spared her enough attention to really think about it one way or the other, to be honest. I mean, you're divorced now…"

"So? We spent almost two decades together, Callie. She's still a part of me. She always will be. I don't want to see her hurting. Look, is she okay, really? Can I…can I see her?"

"She'll hear you from here. You got anything else you want to say?"

"Just that I want her to be okay. I just really, honestly want her to be okay."

"She will be. Or she'll face Bailey's wrath."

He exhaled, finally untensing. "Well. There's an incentive."

"Yeah. Can I show Sydney in now, Derek?"

"Oh. Okay. We'll wait. We'll wait."

Callie gave the pair of them a contemplative look. "Yeah. You do that."

--

Miranda had coaxed Addison out from under the pillows, but the redhead was still shaky. She lay limp on the cot, breathing in quick, shallow beats, a blanket wrapped around her, her flushed face tear-stained and shocky.

"Hey, sweetheart," Callie said.

Addison drew the blanket tighter, eyes welling up again.

"Hey," Miranda soothed. "We had that under wraps, didn't we?"

Small whimper. Miranda shook her head. "The correct answer is 'Yes, Miranda, we had that under wraps.' Hey, Callie."

"Hey, Miranda. She hear all that?"

"Are you kidding? When did you think the blanket came out again?"

Sydney took a step toward the cot. "Dr. Montgomery? Dr. Bailey? Can I have a few minutes?"

It took a moment for the request to sink in. "What, alone with her?" Miranda said.

"I find it generally works better that way between a doctor and a patient, yes."

"Addison?"

She slowly nodded. Miranda and Callie cleared out.

--

When they came back with coffee and cookies half an hour later, Derek and Meredith had cleared out, and the curtain around Addison's bed was open. Sydney was sitting on a chair beside the bed, no longer looking quite so somber.

Addison still looked pale and tear-streaked, but her face had lost the urgent, desperate flush she had come in with. She was sitting up, knees drawn close, the blanket fallen into a heap around her ankles.

"Hey, Miranda," she said. Her voice was a little hoarse, but steady. "Hey, Callie."

"Hey! How are you feeling?" Miranda asked. "Or…" She looked at Sydney. "Or…are we not allowed asking that?"

"Oh, you're allowed," Sydney chirped back. "This once, anyway. Next time, let her offer. That's our deal, right, hon?"

Addison shrugged a little sheepishly. "We're trying the whole peer counseling thing. Sydney's very thorough."

"I find that peer counseling can, in the right hands, be proactive and affirming process," Sydney said. "Addison agrees."

"So it's not…she doesn't need, like, real therapy, or something?" Callie asked.

"If you mean drug therapy, no, I don't think she does. This was more a failure of coping than a failure of biochemistry. Divorce can be a tough one, especially for someone in a job like this. You don't always get much of a life outside the hospital, and often, the spouse is the only support network. Take that away, and…well, you're drifting."

"But she does have a support network," Callie said. "She has us."

"Good for her. But it's not an instant process. You don't just go 'here we are' and everything is rosy. But we're gonna work on that, aren't we, hon?"

"In thirty minute sessions, three to five times a week,' Addison agreed.

"Now, as far as the particulars…well, fawning and hovering has never been a widely accepted therapeutic technique, has it? So, here's how it's gonna work, you two. You get to be there. But you don't get to nag. Business as usual, you understand me? Treat her like you treat each other. And trust her that if she needs to talk---like, serious, venting-type talk, she'll tell you. I taught her a magic phrase. Show them, Addison," Sydney prompted. "Go on, try it out."

"Miranda, I need to talk," Addison recited obediently. "Callie, I need to talk."

"And then?"

"Then I tell them how I'm feeling."

"And they?"

"They affirm it."

"And then?"

"Then they offer me a hug."

"Good girl." Sydney beamed at them. "See? She's already learning. Right. So, see her home tonight, will you? I cleared some personal time with the chief, so she won't be seeing patients tomorrow. But she has a session with me, and after that, I can clear her. Oh, and Addie? No alcohol until further notice, okay?"

"But…"

"No buts. It'll just give you jitters. Go out, have fun, get back into things. But no alcohol. You know, many people enjoy a nice Perrier. "

"Right."

"And I find that a twist of lemon? Really livens it up."

--


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

--

Miranda left to make a few phone calls. When she came back, Addison was out of bed completely, colour almost normal again. They were looking at something she had in her hands, and both of them were giggling.

"Well, this is nice," she said.

"Miranda!" Addison looked up, a familiar spark in her eyes. "Did you know that Karev has Britney Spears on his ipod?"

"Oh ho. Is that so?"

"Yeah. It's like, his dirty little secret. He likes chick music. I should probably feel guilty about outing him but hey, I've had a bad day, so I deserve a little slack."

"Uh huh."

"Seriously, like a quarter of his ipod drive is grunge, metal and punk, and a quarter of it is generic indie, and another quarter of it? Tweeny-pop!"

She raised an eye. "And the last quarter?"

"A John Grisham audiobook, an episode of Battlestar Galactica, and some NPR podcasts."

She couldn't help but join in the giggling. "I could use this, somehow. Nazi that I am, I could use this, couldn't I?"

"Use it?" Callie smirked. "Miranda, we could retire on it. Do you know how much he'd pay to keep this off the street? Bad enough he's slumming with the vagina squad, but he listens to chick music and public radio?"

Addison was shaking her head. "Whew. I needed that."

"Uh huh. So, you ready to check out?"

She sobered again, alarmingly fast. "Oh. Um…"

"Come on. You didn't think we were going to leave you to go it alone tonight, did you?"

"Oh. Um…"

"Just spoke with Tuck. Made arrangements."

"I'm going home with you?"

"No, sweetheart, I'm going home with you. He's meeting me at the hotel, bringing me some stuff. I'll be out early to come back here—can't leave my fool interns alone for long, you know—but Callie's at the same hotel, and she'll bring you in for your session with Dr. Heron. We got you."

"So you keep saying. Miranda, I…"

"Now, don't go tearing up on me again."

"No," she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. "No, I'm good. I'm good."

--

Tuck was waiting for them in the lobby when they got back to the hotel. He had a shoulder bag draped over one arm, and a baby nestled in the other.

"Little Tuck!" Miranda called. She held out her arms and snatched him for a quick snuggle. "Whosa widdle cutie-wootie? That's right! That's right!"

She managed a quick scowl at Callie and Addison, for appearances sake. "You didn't see that."

"Of course I didn't," Addison smirked. "And Karev has only man-music on his ipod, too. Hey, Little Tuck…" She tickled the baby, and smiled at his playful gurgles. "He's getting so big!"

"That's right! Cause he's a widdle babykins, yes he is! Yes he is! Ooh. I wish you didn't have to take him home just yet, Tuck."

"Why does he?" Addison asked.

"Well…well, he's…"

"We can handle him."

"But…"

"Miranda. Three surgeons, one baby."

"He doesn't need surgeons!"

Well?"

"He doesn't have his stuff!"

"Actually," Tucker interrupted. "He does." He hefted the shoulder bag. "I thought you might want to keep him."

"Diapers?"

"Yes."

"Bottles?"

"Yes."

"That yellow worm with the crinkly stuff in its ear and the bell on its tail? Tuck, you know he can't sleep without that yellow worm."

"It's all there. Plus a change of clothes and a toothbrush for you."

"That huge bag, and that's all the real estate I get in it?"

He grinned. "Did you want me to leave the yellow worm at home? You know, he can't sleep without that yellow worm."

"Tucker Johnson, I love you. Damn. Now I'm gonna cry."

"No!" interrupted Callie. "No more crying. By anyone!"

Tucker handed off the bag, then bowed dramatically. "Ladies. I leave you to your thing. Pleasure seeing you again, Addison."

Little Tuck proved to be just what they needed. They ordered some room service ice cream, and put out a mat for the baby to crawl on. When he finally drifted off, just as his mamma was herself starting to fade, Addison grew serious again.

"Whoa."

Miranda forced herself to alertness. "What? Whoa, what? Addie?"

"My heart is racing. Damn. Damn. Damn."

Callie and Miranda traded glances. "Addison, you have something you want to say to us? Like, maybe some kind of magic phrase?"

"Oh my god, Miranda, I'm freaking out."

"Okay, that'll do it. Any reason?"

"I held it together. Talking to Sydney, that helped, and I held it together. But did I, really? It's only talking, only noise. And this, you, Tuck…"

"Noise too?" Callie guessed.

"Callie, I…"

"No, I get it. It's noise too. But you're still going to have to face that moment of truth when we fade off, one by one, and you're lying there in bed, alone, in the dark, just feeling it. Addison, this is gonna take time."

"What do I do?" She was crying in earnest now, deep, messy sobs. "I don't know what to do…"

Callie moved on to the bed with her, eased her under the blankets, gently tucked her in. "One step at a time, kiddo. Now, look at me. Deep breaths."

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…"

"Now that? That's not a deep breath. Come on, Addie, do it with me."

"I hate this. I hate this."

"Again, that's not how we do it. Look at me. Focus…good girl. Now, inhale…one, two, three…and exhale. There we go. Again."

She struggled through it, fighting through the pain. "Okay. I'm doing it."

"There we go. Now, I'm gonna go back to my room, Ads. I'll be back for you later."

"But…"

"Miranda's going to stay with you. She'll be right here, with Tuck."

"Okay."

"She's going to wait until he's really sleeping, then she's going to turn out the light, okay? And you are going to be just fine."

"I just…I keep thinking…seeing…"

"I know. And wow, do I wish there was a way to turn that off sometimes. Unfortunately, you just have to ride it out. You tell yourself that you're okay, and you take deep breaths until you're sleeping."

She inhaled deeply, still a little wobbly. "Yeah. Okay. Night, Callie."

Miranda waited until the door had closed behind her. Then she said "I've been there too, you know."

"I don't think so. You, the great Miranda Bailey? Meltdown to end all meltdowns?"

"I've been there too," Miranda repeated. "And you were there with me, Addison. Day that Tuck was born."

Exhale, one, two, three. "Oh. Right."

"You think I don't go there sometimes? You think that I don't come home dead tired to a cranky baby and a house that's never clean, and have moments where my heart just stops, thinking how close I came to having to do it alone?"

Inhale, one, two, three. "But that's…Tucker was fine, Miranda."

"You and Derek were fine too, once. It's how I know I need to lean, Addie. When I stop remembering the fine…when my mind goes to that other place…I know I need to lean. So I make sure I have a night clear, I call Tuck's sister to come babysit, and I have some R&R time with my man. That's how I lean. You? You'll learn your own way."

There was silence for a moment. Miranda tried to look up, but she was too tired to move. "Addie?"

"Hmm?"

"Hon, what are you thinking right now?"

"I'm telling myself that I'm okay, and I am breathing in and out."

"Atta girl. Night, hon."

--


	12. Chapter 12

Epilogue

They had a thing, with the coffee, right before their shift. Sometimes, it was just two of them. Sometimes, all three. Sometimes, one would be coming off of work while one would be going on again. Most days, they managed to find a little time.

Callie poured five sugars into her drink, the Addison grimaced. "Eww. I still can't believe I am friends with someone who not only drinks coffee, but puts five sugars in."

"Hey, I need my strength. Not all of us just stand there and cut, you know. Some of us actually have to be strong and, like, move bones together and stuff."

"Hey!" Miranda snapped her fingers to bring them to attention. "No turf wars, you two. Callie, you are mighty and powerful and mortals tremble beneath you. You are in no position to take smack from someone whose drink smells like fruit."

"It's herbal tea," Addison said. "It has antioxidants."

"As I was saying. And you, my friend---you have gorgeous hair, and an intern who is afraid of you. So you don't need to be taking smack from someone who has melted five sugars into her caffeine. There. We are all superior. Can we move on?"

They looked suitably chastened. "Yes, Miranda," they said together.

"Great. Now, who has something to share?"

"I do," said Addison. "I would like to share that I will not be joining you at Joe's tonight, because I have a hot date."

"Addison!"

"What? I'm down to once a week with Sydney now, and she thinks I'm ready. And it turns out she has a really cute brother who is a nurse in the PICU…"

"Addison Montogmery, slumming with the nurses?" Callie teased.

"Hey!" Miranda snapped her fingers again. "What'd I tell you?"

"His name is Michael," Addison continued. "He has dark hair, and little tiny glasses, and a band of freckles on his nose, right there…"

"Awww. She's smitten!" Callie said.

"No! I…look, it's too early for that. I mean, I've only been out with him three times…"

"Three times? And you're telling us only now?"

"Well, I didn't want to rush into things. We're taking it slow, Michael and I. Tonight's the first time we're…well…dressing up. He's taking me to this Italian place he knows. He's either trying to get me into bed, or trying to sell me on his neighbourhood now that I'm looking to get out of the hotel."

"Well, it's been three months," Callie said. "Even I'm ready to get out of the hotel."

"Wait," said Miranda, still parsing that last bit. "What do you mean, trying to get you into bed? Three dates, and he hasn't done it yet?"

"I asked him not to."

Callie's eyes widened. "You asked him not to? And he just…just went along with that?"

"He did."

"Wow."

"I…Sydney helped me. She told me I was ready. I mean, I am ready. To get back out there, I mean. But she helped me realize that when I take things slow, the bad stuff, relationship-wise, is less likely to sneak up on me and go whammo. So I told him I liked him, told him I thought he was sweet and funny and really, really cute, and then I told him that if it was okay with him, I wanted to take things slow for awhile."

"Does he know about…Mc-You-Know-Who?"

At that, Addison's brow creased into a tiny frown. "I would think you'd be hard-pressed to find a single person in this hospital who didn't know about that. But I really am ready to move on, you know? I want to give Seattle a try on my terms. See if I can really build a life here."

"And if you can't?"

"Then at least I am starting to believe I can build a life somewhere. It does take time, you know."

They all looked sober at that. "Yeah," said Callie. "I know it does."

"And I don't have to wait to move on with my life until everything's perfect. But I'm ready now to get out there again—not 'desperate validation from men who are bad for me' out there, but just, you know, out there again. And he isn't perfect either. You don't get to be a real adult without a little baggage, you know?"

"Yeah."

"So, we're going slow, and easing into it, his baggage, my baggage, just enjoying each other. One day at a time, right?"

"On that healthy note," Callie said. "I need to dash. See you two later?"

They said their goodbyes to her. Then, Addison turned to Miranda and said "Miranda, I need to talk."

She always said it that way, quickly, without preamble or embellishment. The magic phrase. She went to Callie for her depression days. Miranda sensed the ortho resident might have some history of her own in that department, although they hadn't spoken of it yet. But she seemed to prefer Miranda for the days she had to talk about Derek.

"I'm listening."

"Sydney suggested something."

"Oh?"

"She thinks…she wants me to…well, to try a double date. Michael and me. Meredith and him."

Him. She still had trouble calling him by name, sometimes.

"Interesting."

"Yeah. She thinks it might be good to interact with him outside the hospital in a non-threatening way, to just experience being with him again, as a friend. I know we have no real reason to…I mean, there are no kids, no ties…but I'm having trouble with the idea of just throwing away a third of my life like that, you know? All that history…all that major, major stuff that he was there for, that he was part of…part of me is still really sad that it ended the way it did, really hurt, too, that he…well, I know I made mistakes too, but it wasn't all me, and he did find a rather spectacular way to drive the final nail in, so I'm still a little angry too. But if we can find a way to be friends…make peace…"

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

"It's too early to say just where I'll end up. If I do wind of staying in Seattle, I do have options besides working here. Seeing him every day like this, it might not turn out to be the healthiest long-term option. But I would like to be friends. I would like to believe that if his sisters were in town, we could all go out for drinks together. I would like to think that just because it's over, it doesn't have to be…over, you know?"

"Uh huh." Reflecting it back, without comment or judgment, just as Sydney had told them to do. "I get that."

"So, the double date. He would have Meredith, to cut the awkward for him. I would have Michael, to cut the awkward for me. And we'll see how it goes, this whole just being people thing."

"Worth a try, I guess."

Addison chugged back the last of her drink. "Well, I'd better go. You know, babies to save. Thanks, Miranda."

"Addison?"

"Hmmm?"

"Tomorrow is your turn to buy."

"And?"

"And I'm just saying. That fruity tea set me back three bucks. You'd better be buying me a cookie."

"A sugar freak and a cookie monster. Some friends I have."

"That'll be two cookies now. You going to open that smart mouth of yours again and make it three?"

"Shrew."

"Harpy."

They traded satisfied glances and pushed aside their drinks, fortified to go off into the world.

The end


End file.
